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The Night Mail


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Quietish sort of day, mostly spent listening to the cricket and writing an article for the South Western Circle.  Its 1897, Pettigrew has gone to Furness and Urie is about to arrive from St Rollox.  Now to bed.

Bill

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It's just very hot here, no wind annd muggy. About 30 degrees at the moment. A bit of rain would be nice but after I'vd unloaded the trailer of logs please.

 

A glass of Aberfeldy has just gone down very nicely.

 

Goodnight all.

 

Jamie

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Greetings from your rather grumpy North Hipposhire correspondent. A busy day for me. This morning's routine orders included the c word and I was selected to sort out the conservatory. Being very stupid I started doing a proper job but just as I'd decided enough of that and on with the superficial lick and a promise technique, the early results had been noted, approval given and expressions of encouragement for the rest of the job made. Rats! Hoist by my own petard and condemned to hours of graft.

 

Next up was also a schoolboy error when the Management announced that belly pork with lots of garlic and paprika crackling was being prepared for the evening repast. "Jolly good," says I, "How's about some of those lemon, mint and Feta potatoes like I did last week to go with it?" Even before the words were out of my mouth I could see the yawning pit opening under my feet so the response of, "OK, you can do them then," wasn't a total surprise. One of these days I'll learn I suppose but at 73 I may have left it a tad late?

 

To round off the day I then set about returning the wreckage of what had once been a pleasant and fairly inhabitable workshop Railway room to its former status after my extremely messy few days strewing around seemingly industrial quantities of plaster in an effort to endow my layout with some topography, AKA lumpy bits. The casual observer could be forgiven for thinking that my technique was to fling bucketfuls of plaster around the room in the hope that some would land in the right places. Hence clearing up the mess was quite a major undertaking, made more so by my having apparently used every tool and utensil in the place and left them in, on top of and under every surface, shelf and cupboard  during my frenzied plastering sessions.

 

But the day wasn't rounded off yet as a casual, "Oh, can you just nip round to your Dad's house with some of those bags of hedge cuttings 'cos it's green bin day for him tomorrow and we need to get rid of some of the stuff in our front garden," was tossed grenade-like my way. The best part of an hour later I was back home applying Savlon to the lacerations in my arms from thorns and holly branches.

 

Anyway, eventually all was done and I staggered to the sofa for a large G & T and some mindless programme on the haunted fish tank before retiring to write this and then do some eyelid inspection. And, of course, tomorrow is another day don't they say? Damn right it is; so far it is to begin with me chopping up a large stack of unwanted hardboard, chipboard and other woody things then taking them along with several more sacks of garden rubbish to the tip, sorry, recycling centre. Due to the WuFlu they will only allow one person per car and none of the staff will help unload so another fun packed day will commence......

 

I'm bl**dy determined that I'll get some modelling time in though.

 

And on that note goodnight one and all. Have a quiet and peaceful one.

 

Dave

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I'm still waiting for the management committee to descend the stairway in a triumphal fashion, so no cleaning has been started yet as I am incapable of thinking for myself.

 

As soon as I finish writing this, my store of low cunning will be employed and a tactical deployment of the steam cleaner will be made.

 

I hope I can then clutch at the moral high ground, albeit only for a few moments.

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The day has been seized. The boss and I were emptying the trailer of logs before 09.00. As it was still relatively cool I then went and loaded the trailer again and returned before 10.00. Halfbof that load has niw bern stacked. I must admit that the boss makes a very neat stacker. It's a job judged to be well above my salary grade.  Now after a cool drink and a sit down it's definitely  shower time.  

 

Jamie

Edited by jamie92208
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Test cases have been re-organised, SQL has been corrected and run, output reports have been generated and will be passed upwards when requested.

Bed has been stripped, blood test has been booked.

Sky (to the north) is cloudless.

Blood donation (O+) booked for this afternoon has been cancelled by the Blood Donation Service as they need to reduce numbers of donors as they have a reduced numbers of staff.  SWMBO (A+) is still going though.

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One of yesterday's momentous events was the picking of the greengages from the tree.

 

We managed two bucketfuls:  It should have been more, but as is usual the wasps had destroyed the top half of the crop.

 

what is so annoying is that I can understand they need to feed, but why not all feed on one piece of fruit before moving onto the next one.

 

They just take a nibble of this one and then move onto the next.

 

Still, next door's greengage are a few weeks behind ours as are his plums and damsons:  Since our neighbour has no interest in them, we crop them on his behalf.  I also distribute them to certain neighbours in exchange for cake, cordial, preserves and pickles. (Once a Loggie, always a Loggie.)

Edited by Happy Hippo
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7 hours ago, Happy Hippo said:

Once a Loggie, always a Loggie.

I didn’t know what a Loggie was so turned to Google searches.  Most examples were not likely to be anything to do with Hippos so I did a military language search and discovered the answer. My mother’s evil stepbrother taunted her for most of the early 1940s trying to frighten her about being called up into the Land Army (she was too young in fact). He thought he wasn’t fit (missing eye and part of lung) enough to be conscripted but was called up into the Pioneer Corps who it would seem became Loggies eventually. 
Tony

Edited by Tony_S
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7 hours ago, Happy Hippo said:

(Once a Loggie, always a Loggie.)

As a MOD civi serving in Germany in the early 90s I was acquainted with, and indeed tainted by, many loggies, particularly in the aviation fuel area.   They always reminded me of 'Crapgame' in Kelly's Heroes.   Suffice to say I became very much like them in manipulating the Whitehall warriors who thought they were holding the purse strings.

 

John

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2 hours ago, Tony_S said:

I didn’t know what a Loggie was so turned to Google searches.  Most examples were not likely to be anything to do with Hippos so I did a military language search and discovered the answer. My mother’s evil stepbrother taunted her for most of the early 1940s trying to frighten her about being called up into the Land Army (she was too young in fact). He thought he wasn’t fit (missing eye and part of lung) enough to be conscripted but was called up into the Pioneer Corps who it would seem became Loggies eventually. 
Tony

The Pioneers were nicknamed 'Chunkies': Due to their bulk and ability to lift heavy things.

 

If they got an office job, and were able to work with non Chunkies they were known as 'Chunk Int'.

 

When the RAOC, RCT, ACC, RPC and the P&CS, RE were amalgamated, they become the Royal Logistic Corps.

 

 As is usual with forces slang, they were then collectively known as the Rollocks.

 

Thank the Lord we were not named the British Logistic Corps.

 

 

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Well, this morning was as predicted with lots of humping and dumping and although at one stage it looked as though my ambition to spend some time in the railway room would be thwarted I eventually managed to get there for a couple of hours. Tomorrow will start with my first visit to the market since the middle of March, suitably masked and wielding my two metre pole. Then who knows?

 

Until the site is up and running again, tatty-by everybody.

 

Dave

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Unexpected task this afternoon.  SWMBO managed to spill a sticky medical drink on the computer desk which then spread to the floor and other surfaces.  Also various shelves under the desk. We think most of it has been soaked up and washed off. 

The floor behing the desk is the cleanest it's been in 5 years.

 

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6 hours ago, Dave Hunt said:

 Tomorrow will start with my first visit to the market since the middle of March, suitably masked and wielding my two metre pole. 

Market traders will think you are pleased to see them.

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